


Before You Go, Was I Someone You Loved?

by RagingBookDragon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Canonical Character Death, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Love Confessions, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Reunions, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27519712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagingBookDragon/pseuds/RagingBookDragon
Summary: Their relationship was brief, a mere moment of passion, spread across a few nights. But what he considered simple fun, she felt something deeper. When they finally meet again, will his simple fun turn into something deeper like hers was? Or will she leave him like he left the Brotherhood? Only time will tell. But he hopes she'll stay.
Relationships: Shay Cormac/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. PT. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit, I actually wrote a bad-ass summary to this! I should have the next parts up later. Enjoy! -Thorne

“Shay?”

He looked up from the aimless lines he’d been drawing in the snow to see her standing before him, a frown etched onto her face. He blinked in shock, surprised to see her. “(Y/N)?”

She took a step towards him and sat down on the log next to him, closer than she’d been in the past few months. “I heard,” she started, but lowered her voice, “about Lisbon…and about this evening.”

Shay swallowed the sigh and looked back down at his feet. “Come to tell me that I’m a murderer?”

He didn’t need to see her face to know that there was disappointment written across it. “If that’s what you think I’m here to do, then the few nights we spent together taught you nothing about me.”

Glancing up, he caught her eyes. “I figured you’d never talk to me again after threatening to shoot me.”

(Y/N) nudged her elbow into his ribs. “I still could if you want.” It did the work, and she watched a small smile cross his lips. She leaned her head onto his shoulder, curling her right arm around his left bicep. Her fingers felt cold against the bare side of his wrist. “I’m so sorry about Lisbon, Shay.”

This time, he let the sigh leave him and he allowed himself to feel her comfort, resting his head on hers. “It wasn’t your fault, (Y/N).”

She nodded. “I know…but neither was it yours.”

The thorn that had stuck itself in his heart since he left Portugal dug a little deeper and he countered, “But it was. _I_ moved the piece… _I_ caused the earthquake.”

He knew she had no idea about the Precursor artifacts, but she still tried to understand. “You may have moved it, but it wasn’t your fault. You were merely the instrument used by the Brotherhood. The fault lies with them.”

Shay looked off into the distance. “Misplacing the blame won’t bring the dead back.”

“No,” she murmured, “no it won’t.”

They fell into a silence for some time, watching the snow fall around them, their breaths coming out in pale, airy wisps. “Shay?”

“Hmm?”

“What…what are you going to do?”

He looked down at her, confusion swimming with suspicion. “ _Why_?”

(Y/N) met his gaze. “I know you well enough Shay Cormac. You’re going to do something about all this.”

Shay knew it was useless to hide from her when her eyes saw straight through him; he sighed. “I can’t let them keep going. They’ll kill millions if I don’t stop them.”

She was quiet, then she reached into her pocket and pulled out an old iron key. (Y/N) held it out for him. “Achilles has the items stowed in the desk upstairs. You’ll need this to get into the house and second bedroom.”

He stared in shock at the key and then at her. “Why would you do this for me?”

(Y/N) smiled. “What you considered a few nights of fun, I considered it to be something deeper.” She folded the key into his palm then rose, standing before him. “You know my feelings for you, Shay. And I know that you wouldn’t go against the Brotherhood if you didn’t think it was the right thing to do.” (Y/N) bent down and pressed a chilled kiss to his lips, whispering, “ _I’ll always be on your side, Shay. No matter the cost._ ” She pulled back and smiled sadly, then turned to leave.

He stood and called out, “(Y/N)?” She spun on her heel and waited. Thousands of thoughts ran through his mind, but he simply said, “Thank you.”

She nodded with a small smile. “Please be careful, Shay.”

***

(Y/N) held the hem of her skirt in one hand, the other pressed to her chest, fear dripping down her spine at the sight of Shay standing but a few feet from the cliff edge. She watched Hope take a step forward.

“Give back the manuscript, Shay!” The assassin shouted. “I’m sure Achilles—”

Shay shoved a hand out towards them, voice cracking as he countered, “I cannot. I will not let this happen again.” He shook his head. “All those souls lost…” He met (Y/N)’s eyes and she mouthed his name in terror. Shay lowered his head and declared, “One more hardly matters.”

***

She didn’t know who fired the shot, but it felt all the same in her heart as she sprinted after him. “ _Shay_!” Her scream tore through her throat and before she could get to the edge, someone’s arms wrapped around her waist. She thrashed wildly like a mountain lion caught in a steel trap. “Let go of me! _Shay_!”

“Enough (Y/N)! He’s gone!” She realized it was Liam who had her by the waist.

(Y/N) spun on him, pounding her fists to his chest, borderline hysteric. “ _How could you?! He was your best friend_!” Liam let her hit him. “ _Answer me_!”

He grabbed her hands, but before he could speak, Chevalier snorted, “The cabbage farmer betrayed the Brotherhood. He’s better off at Davy Jones Locker.”

Her eyes drifted to the smoke clearing from his gun and as if another shot had gone off, she was throwing herself at him, and had Liam not had her, she’d have clawed the Frenchman’s eyes out. “ _You arrogant bastard_!” Fury mingled with her pain. “ _That man was more of an assassin than you’ll ever hope to be_!” She spat at him. “ _You will reap what you sow_!” Her eyes drifted to Hope and Achilles, to all of the assassins standing behind them. “ _You all will_! _You all_ —” Finally, (Y/N)’s legs gave out beneath her and she hit the ground, sobs ripping through her chest.

Liam sighed behind her. “Easy (Y/N).”

She sucked in a breath, grabbing his hands as if anchoring herself would take it all away. “ _How could you_?” Her voice was quieter, but certainly harsher. “ _How could you let this happen to him_?”

He frowned and clenched his jaw. “I don’t know (Y/N)…I…don’t know.”

*****Two Years Later*****

She barely kept the tears at bay as she stumbled through the New York streets. Mid-afternoon, but it felt so much busier than it usually was, and she felt as though everyone’s eyes were on her, watching her with pity. Another failed attempt at earning a job. She frowned and drifted into the garden of a home, collapsing onto the bench just outside it. She vaguely hoped that whoever owned the property wouldn’t chase her off in her apparent moment of breakdown. She brought a hand up to her face, wiping the tears from her face before sucking in a breath, then she heard, “Dear?” Her head shot up and she saw an older woman standing with a basket of clothes under her hip.

Quickly, she stood to her feet and the words poured from her mouth before she could stop them. “I’m so sorry ma’am.” She thrust a hand back at the house. “You own this home, don’t you?” She brought her hand to her middle and bowed her head. “Forgive me, I’ll leave.”

The woman huffed and shook her head. “Nonsense dear. I’d be a wretched woman to leave a young lady like yourself to cry your heart out.” She stepped forward and curled an arm around her. “Come now, inside for some tea and we’ll see what’s wrong.” The older woman smiled. “My name is Cassidy Finnegan. What’s yours?”

She offered a wobbly smile to Cassidy—It’d been some time since someone had showed her such kindness—she hoped it would last a bit longer. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” Cassidy ushered her inside and she couldn’t help but marvel at the interior. “Your home is beautiful, Miss Finnegan.”

“Oh, call me Cassidy, (Y/N).”

“Okay then, Cassidy.” The two smiled at one another and the woman set the basket of clothes down on the desk, ushering her to follow. (Y/N) found herself in the kitchen, sitting on a stool as Cassidy handed her a cold, wet rag.

“Here,” she said. “Wipe those tears away. They don’t suit a face as pretty as yours.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks warm and she did so, feeling as if a years’ worth of dirt and grime had come off. “Thank you, Cassidy.”

The older woman shuffled across from her towards the open fire pit, hanging a tea kettle on the rack. “Want to tell me why you were crying outside?”

“I—” (Y/N) started, but faltered, afraid to offer all her knowledge. Eventually, she settled for, “I used to work for a man as a maid, but some of the things he was doing got the man I cared for killed.” She thought of Shay’s smiling face, then to that night when the pain, but determination was written across it. “I refused to work for the man anymore but…well, he has connections all over the colonies.” (Y/N) met Cassidy’s gaze. “I’ve essentially been blacklisted from any workplace I could go.”

“ _Oh no_.” Cassidy’s voice was full of sympathy. “You’ve been on your own for all this time?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I’ve been fortunate to work in some places before they figured out who I was. I’ve been working at taverns here and there.” She looked away. “I’ve been lucky to not end up in a brothel _yet_. But…I fear I’m beginning to lose options.”

“I’ll not have you working in a place like that!” Her head shot up at Cassidy, who had her hands placed on her hips. “You’ll stay here and look for a job!”

Before (Y/N) could get a word in, a man stepped through the doorway, griping, “What are you screamin’ at Cass?” He looked between his wife and (Y/N) then sighed. “ _Another one_?”

Cassidy shushed him. “Hush, Barry.” She gestured between them. “Barry, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is my husband, Barry.”

(Y/N) waved and smiled as best she could despite the man’s frown. “Pleasure to meet you, Mister Finnegan.”

He harrumphed. “At least this one has decent manners.” Cass scowled at her husband and he turned, waving them off. “I’m going to take a nap.”

“ _Oaf_ ,” Cassidy hissed, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle.

“He seems like a good man, Cassidy.”

“He is,” she agreed. “ _When he’s not being rude_.” She turned. “You wouldn’t mind helping with dinner, would you? I’ll need to go ready your room.”

“Oh, please, let me do it! You can go sit and relax!” Cassidy was about to counter, but (Y/N) begged, “Please, if you’re going to let me stay here for free, you’ll have to let me pull my weight.”

Cassidy watched her then offered, “How about you go fold the clothes in that basket and start dinner, and I’ll take care of the room.”

(Y/N) nodded and after grabbing the basket of clothes, she found herself standing in the master bedroom, quietly folding the clothes as to not wake Barry. A warm smile spread across her face as a sense of security filled her veins. She’d certainly not been the assassin’s target, but her fleeing was obviously an offense against them either way. She had no doubts that Hope had been the one to spread the rumors of terrible work ethic throughout the elite in New York—the assassin had the power and connections to do so. (Y/N) shook her head and put away the clothes then headed towards the door but stopped when she felt something in her pocket. She pulled out a coin and flipped it over, seeing the Celtic shield of luck imprinted into it. A sad smile crossed her lips as she ran her thumb in a routine manner. His words came back to her.

_“Here (Y/N).” She looked up from his chest to see him handing something to her._

_Her brows furrowed as she stared at it. “What is that?”_

_Shay brought his free hand up behind his head, resting on it. “A Celtic shield of luck.”_

_(Y/N) couldn’t help but snort. “I think you need this more than I, Shay Cormac.”_

_He chuckled and pressed the coin into her hand. “What are you talking about, lass? I make my own luck.”_

(Y/N) inhaled deeply and shoved the coin back in her pocket, gazing out the window. “ _I make my own luck_.” She whispered and descended the stairs to start dinner.


	2. PT. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying the story so far! I should have PT. 3 up tomorrow or later! Enjoy! -Thorne

She was a whirlwind around the front room, dodging under the man’s arm as she carried the clothes basket. “Good morning, Mister Finnegan. Breakfast is on the table.” She set the basket down beside the couch and picked up the newspaper, handing it to him. “I took the liberty to procure the newspaper for this week.”

Barry took the paper from her and settled into his seat at the end of the table. “You sure are chipper in the morning, (Y/N).”

She snorted, snapping the wrinkles from the bedsheets, and retorted, “And you’re usually cranky in the morning, Mister Finnegan.”

He scoffed, but it was heatless, and took a sip of his coffee before musing, “Seems like the King’s Army is winning a few battles here and there.” (Y/N) didn’t comment on it, merely humming in acknowledgement. “I’m about tired of fighting. Can’t walk anywhere in town without seeing those damned redcoats.”

“Now Mister Finnegan,” she started, “they’re just doing their jobs.” She looked at him. “I suppose we should be grateful they’re not quartered here.” A smile crossed her lips and she quipped, “Imagine Missus Cassidy’s reaction if we had to make more room for soldiers.”

“ _Bah_ ,” Barry sneered. “I don’t need to imagine hers. I’ve got my own.”

(Y/N) laughed and turned her head to the woman coming in from the kitchen. “Good morning, Cassidy. Did you sleep well last night?”

Cassidy nodded. “I did! That chamomile tea you fixed last night did the trick!” (Y/N)’s eyes crinkled as she smiled, taking a seat between Cassidy and Barry. “I woke up an hour late and ran to fix breakfast, but here you already had it made!”

“Well, I’m used to starting the day rather early. My previous employer was an early riser.” (Y/N) bit into her toast and raised a hand to shield her mouth as she added, “I guess I’m still stuck in the habit.”

Barry snorted. “Plenty good habit you’ve got. You made a big breakfast with such little supplies.”

“He’s right.” Cassidy agreed. “I’ve never seen so much food come from but a few eggs and venison.”

(Y/N) tipped her head in appreciation and said, “Oh, believe me, I’m used to cooking and cleaning for a much larger group. The three of us? This is no sweat for me.”

Suddenly Cassidy’s smile dropped into a less than happy one and she admitted, “I do wish you’d let us pay you something. Feels wrong to take all your service and give nothing in return.”

The younger woman reached over and placed her hand atop Cassidy’s. “Cassidy, you’re already paying me more than I could ever ask for. A roof over my head and food in my stomach? I couldn’t ask for more.”

“ _Could ask for a job somewhere_.” Barry muttered.

“ _Barry_!” Cassidy hissed, glaring at him. “Don’t be rude!”

(Y/N) chuckled and countered, “The hunt is going better than you think, Mister Finnegan. I should have one soon enough.”

“ _Sooner the better_.”

“ _Barry_!”

“You say that Mister Finnegan, but I know you like having me around.” (Y/N) smiled at him. “You’d have no one to gripe at if I wasn’t here.”

Cassidy and Barry simply laughed at her words and they returned to their breakfast, an easy conversation flowing between them.

***

She was careful to keep an eye on the bubbling stew as she drew her eyes over the pages of the book. Cassidy had been a bit shocked to learn that (Y/N) could read as well as she could, and it made her smile as she flipped a page in Paradise Lost. Her eyes drifted over the little annotations in the margins. _My son loved to read. He’d mark parts that seemed significant to him. I haven’t read them since he passed._ (Y/N) felt her heart hurt for the older woman—she’d looked so heartbroken, but so relieved when she passed (Y/N) the book. _I don’t think he’d mind if you did._ She was cautious to flip the pages with clean fingers, not wanting to ruin any of the late son’s markings.

While her eyes fell over a line she paused, craning her neck to listen as she heard Barry and Cassidy murmuring beside the fireplace outside the kitchen.

“She should go work for him.” That was Barry’s voice, but Cassidy’s was rather hushed and hard to hear.

“—ay’s a busy gentleman. He’s gone far too much for (Y/N) to be all alone at Fort Arsenal. Besides, she wouldn’t want—”

“Exactly Cass. If he’s gone, she won’t have to worry about anything. She’ll be able to be peaceful.”

“I still don’t think—” (Y/N) squinted as she focused more. “—last thing she’d want is to be around another man after—”

A burning sensation brought her back from her eavesdropping and she let out a curse, dropping the spoon as she reared back to hold her hand. The side of her hand and pinky had brushed the kettle, and already it was growing tender. “ _Shit_!” She hissed.

A call came from the living room. “(Y/N)? Is everything alright?”

(Y/N) nodded, even though they couldn’t see her. “Yes! I accidently burned my hand focusing on the book too much! Sorry!”

Barry groaned from the living room. “ _First the village idiot and now the fool maid_.”

“ _Barry Finnegan_!”

(Y/N) laughed at Barry’s slight insult. “Laugh it up, Mister Finnegan. You’ll miss this _fool maid_ when she’s gone.”

“ _Hardly_.”

Again, she laughed, plating two bowls of stew to bring into the living room. She passed them to the couple before walking to the coat hanger, pulling on her coat.

“Where are you going, (Y/N)?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Cassidy. “I’m just going to walk around the block really quick. I’ve spent all my time inside today that I didn’t have a chance to walk.”

“Oh…I don’t know if I want you wandering around this late.”

Barry let out a ‘ _pfft’_ and rose, walking over to his desk. After a moment of ruffling through its belongings, he crossed over to (Y/N) and pressed a small flintlock into her hands. He nodded at it. “Cock the trigger back and pull the trigger.” It was all he said before he sat back on the couch and started eating once more. (Y/N) nodded at them and left the house, quietly closing the door behind her.

She wandered the streets of New York until she found herself at the gates of Fort Arsenal. A giant mansion, and yet, not a guard in sight. Which gave her cause for concern, but after stepping between the gates and into the garden, she felt it ease. There didn’t seem to be anyone in sight, and just as the Finnegan’s had said, whomever the owner was, wasn’t there either.

The fountain flowed with a graceful ease, and she paused beside it, staring at the water flowing. It reminded her of watching The Morrigan pull out of pier at the Homestead, causing her to sigh heavily as she moved around it.

(Y/N) walked towards the door and knocked firmly. When there was no response, she knocked again, waiting for an answer she was sure to not come. Of course, it didn’t, and she reached for the doorknob, trying the lock. Surprisingly, it opened, and she stepped inside, greeted by a chill. (Y/N) shivered and pulled her overcoat tighter around her, hoping that it would stave the chill from her body. She drifted to the desk near the cold fireplace, squinting to see the writing in the darkness. The handwriting seemed familiar, but not enough that she could place it, and she turned, seeing a trophy room just a few meters away. She walked towards it, calling, “Hello? Is anyone home?” There was no reply. “My name is (Y/N) (L/N). I’m a friend of the Finnegan’s. They said you were in need of a maid?” Again, there was no response and she sighed, staring into the glass cases. Pistols, sabers, and model ships stared back at her and she crept towards the main bedroom.

The master bed’s sheets were pulled taut, telling her that whoever owned it, had at least the decency to make his or her own bed in the mornings. The room was tidy, almost as if they weren’t even there half the time. From what the Finnegan’s had mentioned, the owner wasn’t, obviously at sea more time than he was home. The desk was in the corner was much like the one in the living area, telling (Y/N) that he obviously kept his real plans on the ship he sailed on.

Sighing, she resigned herself to waiting until the owner came home in order to officially apply for the position. But with no one else around, it seemed as though she’d gain the part. She raised her hand to her face, wiping the exhaustion from her eyes before deciding to embark back to the Finnegan’s home for the night. (Y/N) had no doubt that Cassidy was anxiously waiting beside the door for her arrival, and she could imagine Barry’s eyes rolling at his wife’s concerns. She drew her coat tighter around her and made her way for the door but stopped when a familiar scent caught her nose. It smelled like sea salt and leather— _like Shay_.

(Y/N) couldn’t fight the tears growing in her vision, and she knelt beside the desk, rubbing harshly at her chest, hoping that it would take her pain. Shay’s image felt to vivid, so real in her mind and all she could think was how she didn’t do enough to help him before he took his life. _God._ She thought. _It’s been two years and still I’m so torn up about him._ (Y/N) frowned at how callous she sounded in her own mind. _Of course you’re so torn up about him. You loved him more than you loved yourself._ She wiped furiously at her cheeks, begging the tears to stop falling, but they didn’t.

***

By the time she finally arrived back at the Finnegan’s, she knew her eyes had to be swollen and obviously pain filled, but she slapped a smile on her face despite it. The door closed silently behind her and she walked over to the couch, seeing Cassidy asleep beside it. (Y/N) gently draped a blanket over her before climbing the stairs to her own room. She’d decide she’d have enough of the pain tomorrow. _But tonight, she’d allow herself to drift off into her memories of Shay just one more time._


	3. PT. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I'd be able to make a two part story but turns out this is going to be longer than I originally planned. LOL as if I've ever planned out a story before writing it. Enjoy! -Thorne

The past few weeks she’d been incredibly busy, going between both the Finnegan’s and Fort Arsenal. So far, she’d managed to keep quiet about the second location, using a cover of a midnight walk to go over. By the soft glow of candelabra, (Y/N) had taken it upon herself to clean Fort Arsenal and ready it for the owner if he would return— _when_ he would return.

She heaved as she pulled the ladder into place beside the window, climbing up to the top to sit on it. The water in the pail had cooled considerably from when she’d first started cleaning the windows, but she ignored the chill as she wrung the rag and drew it across the glass panes, clearing the dirt and grime from them. After a moment, she paused, and a long sigh left her as she relaxed. Her eyes drifted to the glass cases she’d cleaned the prior night. She had almost dropped one of the model ships as she was taking them out to dust but managed to catch it at the last second, nervous, and relieved laughter escaping her as she set it down. (Y/N) shook herself from the thought as the church bells chimed midnight and she cursed, shifting to climb down the ladder. As she hit the middle step, her dress got caught under her foot, and with a startled yelp, she tipped backwards, landing on her back with a heavy thud. “ _Owwww_ ,” she groaned, blinking away the stars that had appeared in her vision. She happened to look at the top of the ladder and with a frown, she deadpanned, “ **Oh no**.” The pail tipped over the side and doused her in cold water. (Y/N) spluttered, wiping the water from her face only to realize she’d been completely soaked. “ _That’s fantastic_ …now I’m going to have to change when I get back.”

The chiming fell silent and she picked up the empty pail, setting it on the chair beside the door as she hurried out. Picking up the hem of her skirt, she almost sprinted across the streets until the Finnegan’s property came into sight. Slowing down, (Y/N) caught her breath before entering through the door, quiet as to not disturb the sleeping couple upstairs. As the door shut behind her, she looked up and almost let out a scream, but swallowed it before she could, instead blurting, “ _Mister Finnegan_?”

The older man looked up from the book he’d been writing in, cocking an eyebrow at the state of her. “Why do you look like you got into an argument with a river and lost?”

(Y/N) snorted and wrung out the last of the water from her apron. “Because I did.” She lied. “I tripped when I was walking beside a pond and, well,” gesturing to her dress, she added, “you can see what happened.”

“ _Fool maid_.”

She huffed, peeling off her coat to hang by the door. “Why are you still up, Mister Finnegan? Usually you’re the first to bed.”

His face pinched as he dabbed the ink from the quill before shutting the book, standing to push in his chair. “Cass was worried about you. Like she’s been for the past few weeks you’ve wandered out for midnight walks.” (Y/N) frowned at the apprehension she’d been causing. “Made me wait for you to come home.”

She bowed her head slightly, heartfully expressing, “Thank you, Mister Finnegan. I appreciate you doing so.”

Barry’s scoffed. “Didn’t do it for you.” But she saw the faint red across his cheeks, telling her that he did care.

“Of course you didn’t, Mister Finnegan.” (Y/N) took a deep breath and stretched her arms above her head, letting out a long groan. “Well, if I do say so myself, it’s time for bed.”

He grunted in acknowledgement and she followed behind him on the staircase, but stopped when he did, turning to face her. “Are you meetin’ a feller (Y/N)?”

She blinked in shock. “ _I’m sorry_?”

Barry rolled his eyes. “Have you cotton in your ears? A feller. A man. Are you seein’ someone at night?”

(Y/N) shook her head furiously. “What? No sir! _No_! I’ve just been walking around!” He eyed her suspiciously and she affirmed, “Really, Mister Finnegan. With God as my witness, I’ve been walking the neighborhood and coming back.” She frowned. “Sometimes I find myself at the docks.”

He arched an eyebrow, a rare tone of wonder coming over him. “The docks? _Why_?”

The Irishman came into her mind and she murmured, “ _The man I cared for_ ,” she gestured with a hand, “ _the one who’d passed…he was a sailor_.” (Y/N) smiled. “ _God, he was a stubborn ass at times…but he had a heart of gold_.”

“You must’ve cared a lot for him.”

She nodded. “I did.” (Y/N) tried for a smile but managed a grimace at best, and sensing the shift, Barry nodded.

“Well,” he started, “Cass and I just wanted to be sure that you weren’t out foolin’ around.”

(Y/N) chuckled and shook her head. “Trust me, Mister Finnegan, I’m not going to be fooling around with anyone anytime soon.”

He gave her a firm nod and turned, and in silence they made their way to their respective bedrooms. She paused as she had her hand on the doorknob. “Mister Finnegan?”

He turned. “Aye?”

(Y/N) offered him a smile, a real one that time. “ _Thank you_.” Barry waved her off, but a smile was on his face all the same.

She entered the spare room and set about stripping the damp skirt and tunic she had on, hanging them along the armoire to dry overnight. She pulled on her nightgown and sat down on the bed, gazing at the moon through the window. Even if she’d promised to leave her memories of him behind, (Y/N) couldn’t help but think on them, knowing they gave her a sense of security in a way.

***

She snapped the clips from the sheet along the clothesline, pulling it down, but let out a startling cry when she saw the person opposite of it. “ _Holy Christ_!”

The man offered her an apologetic smile. “Sorry (Y/N). Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Clearing her throat, she started to awkwardly fold the sheet. “No, don’t worry, Master Liam. I simply didn’t hear you come over.” She set the sheet into the basket and looked at him. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“No,” he murmured. “I just wanted to speak with you about something.”

Cocking a curious eyebrow, she asked, “And that is?”

His gaze met hers, and rather serious, he said, “Shay.”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and nodded, moving along the line to the next bedsheet. “What about Shay?”

“You and him.” Liam gazed at her. “The two of you are… _close_.”

“As friends are.” She rationalized easily but kept her eyes from him. “Should we not be?”

“I think you two are _closer_ _than friends_.”

(Y/N)’s hands paused, and she pulled a face, questioning, “Are you insinuating something, Master Liam? I’ve no desire to speak in riddles. If there’s something you wish to ask me, you’d best come out and say it.”

He arched a thick brow at her slight challenge before shrugging his shoulders. “ _As you wish_. You two are bedding each other. Am I wrong?”

She felt her cheeks warm at the question and after mulling it over, she admitted, “I don’t share my personal life, but I wouldn’t share a bedroom with someone, _especially a man_ , if I wasn’t romantically and emotionally invested, Master Liam.” (Y/N) met his gaze. “I hope there’s a point to this conversation besides embarrassing me.”

Liam nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just wanted to know if the two of you were merely having fun or serious.”

(Y/N) squinted, muttering, “I believe we’re serious. He’s yet to show me a sign that we’re not.” She eyed him. “ _Why_? _Has he said something to you_?”

He was quick to shake his head. “No. But he’s mentioned you a few times. I just wanted to know.”

“I understand.” (Y/N) grunted as she picked up the full clothes basket and stopped to look at him. “Well, if that’s the end of this, I think I’ll take my leave.” Liam simply nodded in return, but she stopped and said, “Master Liam?” He glanced at her back and she murmured, “ _I’m glad someone other than me is looking out for Shay_.”

Liam smiled at that and replied, “As am I, (Y/N).”

***

The day had come and gone, and as the night rose, she rubbed the exhaustion from her face, stepping quietly down the stairs. Just as she reached the bottom, she heard voices from inside the dining room, and with a listen, she heard it was Liam and Shay. A smile crossed (Y/N)’s lips and before she could enter, she heard, “So (Y/N).” She froze in place, taking a stand behind the wall. Her mother would’ve snatched her by the ear for eavesdropping, but she couldn’t help it.

Shay hummed, the sound of a spoon clinking against a bowl filled her ears and said, “What about her?”

Liam scoffed, evidently shoving food into his mouth because his voice was muffled. “‘Ou an’ ‘er.”

“ _What_?” Shay chuckled.

“You and her.”

“What about us?”

“Well, you’re together aren’t you?”

A startled cough sounded from Shay who pounded his chest and coughed a few more times. “Toge—ther?”

Liam nodded. “I mean, you’re courting her, _right_? I’ve seen you leave her cottage a few times. And you’re around her _a lot_.”

“Oh. _Oh. No_. She and I aren’t like that.” Her brows furrowed and a deep pit began to settle in her stomach.

If the feeling was felt by Liam, it showed as he said, “You’re not?”

“Nah. She and I are just havin’ a bit o’ fun.” (Y/N) felt her heart drop into her feet and suddenly her fingers and toes began to numb.

“ _Oh_ … _I thought_ … _hmm_ …”

Shay’s tone turned confused as he inquired, “Why do you ask?”

Liam cleared his throat awkwardly, admitting, “Well, I was talking with her today about the two of you.”

“ _And_?”

“Shay, (Y/N) seems to think that what’s happening between you two is deeper than what you’re thinking is happening.”

For a moment, nothing was said, then Shay sputtered, “ _She does_?”

“ _Aye_ …and I would definitely clear it up before it goes further. She doesn’t seem the type to be okay with… _fun_.”

Having heard enough, (Y/N) bypassed the entrance to the dining room and made her way to the front door, slamming it behind her. She’d no doubt they’d have gotten up to see who it was, and that doubt proved true when the door opened and closed after a moment and she heard, “(Y/N)!” She didn’t look at him. Didn’t listen. Didn’t even stop, just kept walking towards her cottage. Shay appeared in her peripheral and he plead, “(Y/N), just let me explain.”

“ _You go to hell._ ” She spat and stopped in her tracks when he moved in front of her.

“Please just let me exp—”

(Y/N) shoved a finger in his face, and though she could feel the tears growing in her vision, her rage was more apparent. “I have never, **_never_** _,_ been any man’s _bit of fun_.”

“ **No** ,” he said, rather hurriedly. “ **It’s not like that**.”

She scoffed in disbelief and flung a hand towards the mansion. “ _Not like that?! You just told your best friend that all we are is a bit of fun_!” (Y/N) shoved past him and marched to her cottage, Shay in tow behind her.

“ _I just_ — _it’s_ _complicated_.”

The latch unlocked and she stood up straight, turning to face him. “ _No, Shay, it’s not complicated. You should’ve been upfront with me that sex was all you were after_.” (Y/N) felt a tear slide down her cheek and she wiped furiously at it. “ _God, I can’t believe I’ve been made a fool like this_.”

“I didn’t mean for _this_ to happen, (Y/N).” Shay said with regret.

“ _Well it did_.” She spun on her heel and opened the door, stepping inside. Shay stepped onto her doorstep and she glowered at him, hissing, “ _If you ever come back here, I swear to God I’ll shoot you with your own gun_.”

He blinked in shock. “(Y/N)—I—”

“ _Don’t come near me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me_.”

“I’m sorr—”

She cut him off. “ _Get. The. Hell. Off. My. Doorstep_.” Her eyes shown with fury. “ ** _Now_**.” Shay took a step back and before she closed the door she spat coldly, “ _Go crawl into a bush somewhere and die, Shay Cormac_.” And it ended with an equally harsh door slam.

***

(Y/N) sighed as she pulled the covers to her chin. That conversation had been one of the last she’d had with him before he died, and though she was right to her embarrassing anger, she felt regret for the outburst. It had been equally her fault for not clearing things up too. She clenched her jaw and burrowed her face into her pillow. _Too late to change the past now._ Her heart ached with a burn. _I do hope you’ve forgiven me though, Shay. Because I am sorry._


	4. PT. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly wish you could see this scene how I've imagined it, and I wish I could write it as I imagine it! But enjoy! -Thorne

“Mister Finnegan, if I had a pound for every time you groaned like that, I’d be a very, very, _very_ , rich woman.” She grinned at the older man sitting beside her on the sofa, watching as he rested his head back against the seat.

Barry let out another groan. “Come off it, (Y/N). I’ve a right to release my frustration.”

She snorted, folding the blanket into a neat square. “I think you’ve been releasing frustration for about fifty years.” (Y/N) set the blanket across the back of the sofa and quipped, “How have you not run out of it yet?”

He glared at her. “Because for some reason I keep collecting _fools_ in my home.”

A laugh sounded in her throat and she rose from the couch, resting the basket on her hip. “ _Not the first, certainly not the last_.” (Y/N) grinned as she walked to the stairs, hearing Barry let out another groan.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she stepped into her room, beginning to empty the basket. She quietly hummed to herself, glancing over her shoulder as footsteps sounded behind her.

“Here you are, (Y/N).” Cassidy walked over to her, busying herself with organizing the clothes. “I was wondering where you’d gone.”

“I’m here, there, and everywhere, Cassidy.”

The older woman huffed a laugh. “That you are, dear.” She paused a moment and looked out the window. “Such a beautiful sunset.”

(Y/N) shifted her gaze to the glass panes as well, hands halting as she stared. “Agreed.” She glanced at Cassidy. “Would you like to take an evening walk with me? It’s not too terribly warm out.”

A smile grew on the older woman’s face and she nodded. “That sounds like a fantastic idea, (Y/N).” She set the folded tunics in a neat pile. “I’ll go ready our shawls.”

The younger woman watched her leave before sighing pleasantly, following moments later.

***

“Sometimes I feel as though New York comes alive more at night than it does in the day.”

(Y/N) tipped her head in acknowledgment, gently tugging Cassidy’s arm to guide her from the battalion of redcoats coming their way. “Has it changed much since you were a young woman?”

Cassidy nodded, pausing to look both ways down the street before they crossed over. “It has…I remember when many of the roads were still _dirt_ and not cobblestone.” She smiled, and for a moment, (Y/N) thought she looked younger than she had in years. “I met Barry on that road over there.” Cassidy nodded her head towards a corner. “Drunkenly stumbled into me coming out of the tavern with his friends one night.” She met the other’s eyes and grinned, “I slapped him sober and the rest is history.” (Y/N) couldn’t help but practically cackle at the mental image of a younger Cassidy Finnegan slapping Barry Finnegan silly.

They walked around the other side of the neighborhood and suddenly Cassidy went still. (Y/N) glanced over, slightly concerned, but saw a smile growing on the woman’s face. “Cassidy?”

“He’s back!” she replied happily.

(Y/N) tipped her head to the side and followed her line of sight, seeing the main mast of a ship coming into a harbor. Fort Arsenal’s harbor, to be exact. “He’s back then? The owner of the fort?”

Cassidy stared at her with confusion. “You know him?”

She shook her head. “ _Not…exactly_?” The woman cocked an eyebrow and (Y/N) admitted hurriedly, “I heard you and Mister Finnegan talking about the fort some time ago and all those nightly walks have actually been a cover for going over to clean the mansion.”

The older woman’s eyes grew large and round. “ _What_? You mean you’ve been out every night to clean the fort?” (Y/N) nodded, and Cassidy pulled a satisfied look. “Well then, I guess we should go over and introduce you to the owner.”

As they passed through the gates and neared the mansion, (Y/N) halted, pointing at the basket. “Wait, let’s give those muffins to the sailors.”

“Of course, but why?”

“Well, they’ve probably been out for a while. I figure a nice carrot muffin would taste fantastic compared to biscuits and salted pork.”

“Oh, that’s a fantastic point.” She handed (Y/N) the basket. “You should be the one to, since it’s your idea.”

The younger woman nodded, and they started back on the walk over. They neared the ship and (Y/N) cocked her head to the side, catching sight of the lettering on the back of the ship. “ _The Morrigan_?” she whispered.

“Did you say something, dear?”

She shook her head but felt something sharp grind it’s way through her chest as they neared the gangway. (Y/N) waved at the sailors beginning to look their way. “Hello gentlemen! Is your captain aboard?” A few of the sailors started speaking at once and she snorted. “Please, one at a time.”

A young man, couldn’t have been older than eighteen, stepped up and pointed towards the cabin. “Aye Miss. He’s talking with the first mate and their boss.”

(Y/N) nodded, raising the basket, and gently tugging at Cassidy’s arm. “Your captain is a friend of Miss Finnegan’s, and I’ve been taking care of Fort Arsenal in his absence. Might we come aboard to greet the captain? You can have some of these muffins if you do.” The sailor’s faces lit up and they nodded excitedly.

Before she could even lift her foot, one of them shouted, “Don’t step with—”

“With your left, I know!” (Y/N) placed her right foot on the gangway and helped Cassidy up as well. “I know how the superstitions work.” Though her words had a bite, she smiled all the same, and soon she and the older woman stood in the center of the ship, talking to the sailors who had started stuffing their faces with the muffins. “Easy, gentlemen. Save some for the captain and first mate.”

They offered her smiles and the one who’d addressed (Y/N) turned to Cassidy. “It’s good to see you again Missus Finnegan. How’s the old husband?”

The older woman snorted. “He’s just as oafish as ever, Michael.” She shook (Y/N)’s arm. “Picking on Miss (Y/N) all the time. _Rude_.”

“He’s not so bad, Cassidy. Just being a grumpy old man.” (Y/N) laughed. “ _Imagine if he wasn’t grumpy_.”

Cassidy pressed a hand to her chest. “Perish the thought! It’d be as if I’d married a stranger!”

The sailors around them laughed, and Michael turned his attention to (Y/N). “Miss (Y/N), was it?” She nodded and he smiled. “How’d you come to start cleaning the captain’s home?”

“Oh, I needed a place of employment and Cassidy and Mister Finnegan had mentioned that your captain didn’t have a staff at Fort Arsenal.”

“Aye,” Michael agreed. “Captain Cormac spends most of his time here than he does there.”

(Y/N) blinked, suddenly unsure as if she’d heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, did you say Corm—”

A door opening cut her off, followed by, “Far be it from me to tell you how to do this, Captain, but I would go the other way.”

“Why not?” said a familiar Irish voice. “I don’t see the harm in taking a few risks. Don’t you?”

She saw a man in a navy-blue tricorn pass, followed by a man in frontiersman leathers. Then, he stepped to the side, and the sight of the third man made the basket fall from her grip, slamming into the deck with a thump.

The contents spilled across the deck, causing them to look in the direction of it, but only one reacted, taking a step forward, voice laced with disbelief. “(Y/N)?”

Ignoring Cassidy’s worried gaze, (Y/N) shifted on weak legs, whispering, “ _Shay_?” There seemed to be a stretching silence growing amongst the crew who quietly watched the two stand before one another. (Y/N) raised trembling hands, gently placing them on his biceps, squeezing. “You…you’re here.”

“Aye,” he murmured, feeling her hands drift up his shoulders to cradle his face.

She ran her thumbs across his cheeks, and huffed a watery laugh, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. “You’re ali—” she went silent, swallowing the lump in her throat as she met his stare, lamenting, “ _I watched you…fall. I_ —” Her grip became a little tighter. “ _I saw you go over the edge_.”

A frown grew across Shay’s face and he reached up, placing one of his hands over hers. “Aye…you did.”

Her lower lip trembled and she breathed, “But you’re here…you’re in front of me.” She laughed and caressed his cheek again. “And you’re clean shaven and looking like a gentleman.”

His eyes narrowed with a certain fondness, revealing a warm smile. “Amazing what a shave and haircut can accomplish, eh?”

(Y/N) grinned, then suddenly remembering, she faltered, questioning, “You’ve been alive all this time?” He nodded and her hands left his face for a moment, then with a sharp snap, her palm sent his head turning sideways. Gasps sounded from behind her, but she paid no mind to them, watching Shay grab his cheek and stare wide-eyed at her. “ _Two years_ ,” she hissed through her tears. “ _Two years I have still grieved your loss and you’ve been alive all this time_?” She shook her head in disbelief. “ _Why didn’t you try to contact me?! Let me know you were alive!_ ”

“I—” He started but she wasn’t having it.

“ _A letter, Shay! You could’ve sent me a letter to at least to let me know you were alive! Hell, a simple message would’ve sufficed_!”

Trying to defend himself, he simply returned, “ _I’ve been busy_!”

(Y/N) glowered and him and reached out, shoving him backwards. “ _Oh! You haven’t changed a bit, Shay Cormac! You—you Irish bastard! Always making excuses_!”

“That is _not_ an excuse, (Y/N).” He defended.

“ _Oh, piss it’s not! If anything is your specialty, it’s making excuses_!” She spun on her heel, stomping towards the ramp. “ _And messes_!”

“Where are _you_ going?!” He called.

She turned and glowered at him. “I’m going to Fort Arsenal to start your dinner!”

“ _You’re what_?”

“I’m going to make your dinner!” She repeated. “ _And when you fall over from the botulism, I’ll be happy to know that you’ve keeled over for good_!” (Y/N) audibly growled as she stomped down the gangway.

The crew and Cassidy stared at the retreating woman, and Shay trotted over to the portside and shouted, “I’m glad to see you again, lass! I’ve missed your lovely self and cruel words!”

“ _You are a bastard and I hope you fall overboard!_ ”

Shay grinned, placing his hands on his hips. “ _Aye, she loves me though_.”


	5. PT. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am gonna turn this into a slow burn and I've never attempted one of those but I will conquer it, even if I do it shittily. So enjoy! -Thorne

For the first two weeks he was in port, he found that (Y/N) avoided him like he’d contracted the plague, and when she couldn’t get away from him, if looks could’ve killed, he’d have burst into flames each time she had to be in his presence. Still, he tried his best to get her attention, at least to apologize, but with her short and clipped answers, _not that he could blame her_ , Shay knew he was going to have to try harder.

He adjusted the hidden blades on his wrists as he entered the living room, glancing up when he saw the hem of a lilac dress in front of him. He smiled at (Y/N), though she wore a sour look.

“Mornin’, lass.” He greeted. “Sleep well?” (Y/N) simply raised the heavy leather coat and he spun around, letting her help him into it. “I did. Thank you for leaving that extra blanket out last night. It got a bit cold.” When he had the coat on, he faced her once more, pulling lightly at the lapels to situate it fully. With a slightly concerned look, he asked, “I hope you stayed warm last night?” Again, she said nothing, turning to begin organizing the desk.

Shay frowned at her silence, and as he turned to leave, he heard, “The fire you started last night kept my room warm enough.”

It was short and barely audible, but an answer nonetheless and he felt a smile grow across his face as he walked over to her. “I’m glad it did.” His eyes flickered over the documents she was handling. “Thank you for keeping me organized.”

“Someone ought to.” She retorted, causing him to snicker.

“Aye, it’ll be my greatest downfall.” Shay caught sight of a small smile at the corner of her mouth and he lent back against the desk, gazing at her. “After I check on the crew, I have to go into town. Would you like to come with me?”

For once in the two weeks, she willingly met his gaze, albeit her eyes were narrowed suspiciously. “ _Why_?”

Shay floundered for an answer, settling on, “I just wished your company for the afternoon.”

“Don’t you have a mission to complete?”

She might’ve never been an Assassin, but she’d been around them long enough to know their enemies. They’d yet to bring up the Templars in any of their conversations, and Shay knew it’d be awhile before they did. Hell, he had yet to ask why she wasn’t at the Homestead anymore. Still, he was impressed that she’d already gathered he’d become one of their top agents.

He shook his head. “Not at the moment. My boss is awaiting more information before assigning me a job.” She grunted in response and he stood from the desk to his full height. “Tell you what, you think about your answer while I’m gone and if you’re not at the gate when I get back, then I’ll go on. Alright?”

“Mhm.” Shay smiled and made his way to the door. “Be safe.” She called out to him as he exited.

***

Despite the fact that Gist handled a majority of the Morrigan’s stock, Shay still made it his business to make sure that the basics were purchased. He went over the list in his head, continually repeating, _bread, meat, beer,_ like it would help him remember. He briefly considered not buying alcohol because it turned his crew into drunken louts, especially when it was rum they were drinking. _Something about a pirate’s life for them._

“ _Finally_. I was getting tired of waiting for you.” Shay’s head shot up at the sound of her voice, seeing her with her winter coat on, a basket ready in her hands.

“You’re here.” He said.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “ _Excellent observation skills, Shay_.” She turned, unlatching the gate. “It’s no wonder you’ve lived this long.”

He barked a laugh as he followed, closing the gate behind her. “You’re full of barbs today, aren’t you, lass?”

“Oh, you’ve yet to see _barbarous_ , Shay.” She countered, catching sight of him from the corner of her eye.

He placed a hand to his chest in mock surprise. “Wait, you’re telling me that every sentence since we reunited _hasn’t_ _been_ _a barb_? _Color me shocked_.”

(Y/N) glared at him. “ _Alright, the first part was funny, now you’re just being an ass._ ” Shay let out another chuckle, inconspicuously shifting himself until he was on her opposite side, closer to the road. She heaved a sigh, casting a glance towards the market. “What do you need to get?”

He shrugged his shoulders, murmuring, “Gist will take care of the supplies. Do you need anything? It’s on me.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, then started off towards a stall, leaving him to catch up. They stood side by side, Shay watching her more than he was looking at the items. She’d changed so much in just two years—her attitude, her mannerisms, everything. She seemed more mature, like she’d lived a lifetime in such a short time. Kinder, but angrier and distrustful of unknown. Distrustful of him. Shay recognized the change—it’d been the one he’d made after he met Monro. He couldn’t help but see a part of himself in her, and again, he found himself wondering what had changed after his disappearance that made her leave the Homestead. Maybe she left on her own accord? Maybe they chased her off? Maybe they—

“ _Shay_.” A firm grip on his forearm snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked over. (Y/N) stood there, a slight look of concern on her face. “Are you alright?”

He nodded. “Aye. Sorry, I was thinking about something.” He glanced down at the silk scarf in her hands, a rich maroon like the sails of the Morrigan. “Is that the one you want?” She nodded and he allowed himself to briefly believe that she chose it with him in mind. He took it from her and handed it to the merchant. “Wrap up this one and—” Shay glanced at the scarves and reached in, picking up a purple one. He raised it to (Y/N)’s cheek and smiled. “This one goes nice with your skin tone.”

She swallowed thickly and cleared her throat, evidently embarrassed. “ _Thank you_.”

Shay grinned and raised it over and behind her head, tying it around her throat, tight enough to stay, but not loose enough to fall. Though he’d finished, he let his hands linger at her neck, bare fingers brushing against the soft skin. “ _Beautiful_ ,” he murmured and (Y/N) held her breath.

“Sir, the money…” He withdrew his hands from her and reached into his pocket before handing the man a few pounds.

“Keep the change.” Shay quipped, gently placing a hand to (Y/N)’s lower back, directing her away from the stand.

They walked for what seemed like an hour, neither speaking until they came to a park. They took a seat on one of the benches, watching the couples and families walking down the pathways.

“It’s a beautiful day out.” (Y/N) remarked. “It’s chilly, but not freezing.” Her eyes drifted to the trees. “Not snowing a lot yet. A few flurries here and there.”

Shay hummed, reclining back against the bench. “It was snowing in Sleepy Hollow the last time I was there.”

She glanced at him. “Recently?”

He nodded. “Had some business to take care of.”

“ _For the Templars_?” This time, her gaze was straight ahead, not anywhere near him.

Shay took a deep breath and nodded. “Aye, for the Templars.” He watched her.

Her lips pulled in a satisfied line. “I won’t say I’m not surprised you took this route…but it’s not unexpected.” Sighing, she added, “Besides, you seem a bit more comfortable amongst them then you did the assassins.”

“And you seem more comfortable at Fort Arsenal than you did at the Homestead.” His words had no bite, nor hidden intentions and she looked at him, and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he was actually seeing the real (Y/N) again. Not the carefully constructed wall she’d built around herself.

She reached over and traced the Templar insignia at his chest. “ _I didn’t want to be around the men and women responsible for driving you to such an extreme_.” Her voice lowered and she whispered, “ _And your ghost was everywhere. At my cottage, at the mansion, at the docks…at that stupid ledge_.” (Y/N) met his gaze, tearfully huffing, “ _I couldn’t take it anymore and I just…left_.”

Shay reached up and held her hand to his chest, feeling her fingers splay beneath his. “How’d you end up at the Finnegan’s?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I’m sure because of how close I was with you, the Assassins blacklisted me. I jumped from job to job until I wound up in Cassidy’s front yard.”

He smiled, thinking of the older couple. “And they took you in?”

She nodded. “As they did for you.”

“Aye. They’re good people. Missus Cassidy is a godsend.”

“Mhm…and Mister Finnegan is someone you call when you need to be knocked down a peg or two.” (Y/N) glanced at him, eyes full of mirth as she quipped, “ _So I’ve been deigned the fool maid, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m beginning to think that you’re the village idiot._ ” At that, Shay’s head fell back as unbridled laughter fell from him; she couldn’t help but laugh with him.

When they calmed, they were both wiping stray tears from their cheeks, and she leaned over, resting her head on his arm. She said nothing, but he didn’t need her to, silently taking one of her hands in his. His thumb brushed over the back of her hand and he murmured, “ _I’ve missed your company, (Y/N)._ ”

For a moment, she didn’t offer a response, then she said, “You have?”

“ _I have…I’ve thought about it a lot_.” He shifted slightly and she raised her head to look at him. “ _I’ve thought about **you** , a lot_.”

If those were the golden words she’d been waiting for, she didn’t show it in the way he expected. (Y/N) gently pulled away and rose. “It’s getting rather late, Shay. You really should get back to the fort in case you’re needed.”

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed, though it wasn’t unexpected. He stood, brushing off his pants. “I’ll walk back with you.”

“ _Don’t bother_ ,” she rejected. “I’ve a few more errands to run before I have to return. You should go on ahead without me.”

“(Y/N)—” he started, but she was already walking off in the opposite direction, and Shay sighed, running a hand through his hair. “ _Blast_.” He muttered, before calling, “Will you be back soon?”

She didn’t turn around, simply waved a hand in return, offering, “ _Be safe, Shay_.”


	6. PT. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! -Thorne

Her hands moved with a practiced ease, unclipping the clothes from the line before folding and moving onto the next piece. The past few days had been graced with a pleasant temperature and clearness, allowing for the laundry to be washed and hung. She did it all while she had the time. She paused at a particular shirt, fingers brushing under the fabric to appear at the hole torn in it. A frown etched onto her face—she hadn’t noticed the hole when she was washing.

Footsteps sounded behind her, followed by a familiar voice. “Got into a scuffle with some assassins the other afternoon. Didn’t realize one of them had cut me until after.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “I thought I told you to be safe, Shay.”

“You did, (Y/N). But I can’t exactly keep from getting injuries.” He grinned. “It’s all in the job description.

(Y/N) frowned and slung the shirt over her shoulder, picking up the basket. “ _Try harder then_.” When Shay tried to take the basket from her, she switched it to her other hip, ignoring his kicked-puppy look with, “Have you had the injury checked by a doctor?”

“Nay. Cleaned it and wrapped it up myself.”

“You’re a _fool_ , Shay Cormac.” He opened the door for her and though she thanked him politely, she nodded to the desk. “Go sit on the desk and I’ll get some supplies.

“You don’t have to—” she sent him a withering glare and he shut his mouth, raising his hands in surrender, obediently walking to the desk. Perching himself atop it, he undid his jacket and set it aside, the cotton tunic following with it. The heat of the fireplace reached him, sending warmth up his spine. Shay waited patiently for her and when she arrived, (Y/N) set down a bottle of alcohol, a needle and some thread, some slimy looking gel in a bowl that made Shay a bit wary, and a clean wrap of cloth.

She busied herself with unwrapping his own bandage before uncorking the bottle of alcohol. “It doesn’t look infected,” she murmured, dousing a piece of cloth with the whiskey. “I’m surprised you’ve managed to keep it dry.”

“Easy with the— _Ouch_!” he yelped when she ran the cloth over the wound. “ _That hurts_!” The fresh cut stung every time she wiped it.

“Wouldn’t hurt if you’d told me about it earlier.” she countered and set the cloth aside. For a moment, she examined it, then surmised, “I don’t actually think you need stiches, but a fresh bandage will do you good.” (Y/N) picked up the bowl and dug her fingers into it, smearing the gel onto his side.

“ _What_ — _is this_?” Shay griped, expecting a foul smell, yet none came.

“Aloe vera gel.” She answered. “Helps to heal wounds.” When she was finished, she placed a small cloth against it. “Hold that while I unwind the wrap.” He did so, watching her with a fondness—her care was gentle despite her harsher words. (Y/N) wrapped the bandage around his waist and tied it firmly before wiping her hands on the rag at her side. “There. Should start to feel better soon.”

Shay smiled warmly at her. “It already does.” He raised a hand, gently tracing her cheek with his fingers. “Thank you, (Y/N).” For a moment, a rare smile was returned to him and it made his heart flutter in a way he’d never felt before. The pure joy that was becoming clear in her eyes made a fire burn in his chest, partial regret for two years before, the other a searing love that made his fingers twitch to hold her close.

(Y/N) seemed to regain herself and cleared her throat, pulling away after a few seconds. “You’re welcome. Try to be more careful next time.”

He huffed a laugh and hopped off the desk, spinning to grab at his shirt. “Aye, I’ll try for you, lass.” He picked it up and fumbled with the opening. “Will you patch me up if I get anymore wounds?” He expected a witty comeback, but when her fingers brushed against his left shoulder blade, he froze like she’d pressed a flintlock to his back. “(Y/N)?”

She said nothing, delicately tracing the knotted flesh on his skin with trembling fingers. Shay didn’t move besides a barely visible shiver, simply letting her feel him. “ _Does…does it hurt_?”

He let out a heavy sigh, weighing between telling her the truth and giving her a lie. Shay wondered which would hurt her more. “ _Sometimes_.” Her free hand settled on his waist and he felt goosebumps rise across his skin. “I wake up in the middle of the night covered in sweat…like I’ve just hit the ice after I fell.” He felt her press her forehead against his back, just between his shoulder blades. “Sometimes it’s sore, like it’s still open and bleeding. Sometimes it’s not.” (Y/N) thumbed the scar. “ _Phantom pains_ , so I’m told they are.”

Her hand left his shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him tight. Her breath came out in a shudder against his skin and Shay couldn’t help but place his hands over hers. “I want you—” she started, but went silent, and Shay felt something wet slide down his spine. “I want you to tell me when it hurts—even if it’s in the middle of the night.”

“ _Aye_?”

Though it was said with a bit of humor to ease the tension, (Y/N) responded firmly. “ ** _Yes_**.” She laced their fingers against his middle. “I have oils and creams and herbs that will help ease the pain and I’ll help you—”

Shay’s brows furrowed and he shifted her grip enough to turn around and face her. “Hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” She didn’t look at him, keeping her head bowed and he gently cradled her face, tilting her face to look at him. _“(Y/N), it’s okay_.” Her lips pursed and Shay brushed a thumb across her skin. “ _I’m_ _okay_ , (Y/N).” he promised. “You don’t have to worry yourself abou—”

“ _But I do_!” she insisted. “You are _still_ so _brash_ and _reckless_ , and I will not lose you again!” His eyes went wide, and she reached up, grabbing his wrists. Tearfully, she whispered, “ _I will not lose you again, Shay_.” (Y/N) squeezed his wrists, digging crescent moons into his skin. “ _I **can’t** lose you _.”

He regarded her with an empathetic gaze. “…(Y/N)—I—” he murmured.

“ _I’m not strong enough to go through it again_.” She admitted, with a harshness that made her throat hurt. More tears gathered in her vision and she shut her eyes, faltering, “ _I’m not…strong enough_.” She leant forward and Shay pressed his lips to her forehead, shifting his hands from her face to her neck, holding her close. (Y/N) sniffled, letting out a humorless huff. “ _I wish I could still hate you_.”

“I know.” He murmured.

“I want to be angry at you.”

“I know.”

“I want to be able to scream and yell and tell you get out of my sight.”

“I know.”

“ _I want to hate you, Shay Cormac. So greatly does it weigh on my chest that I do._ ”

Shay let out a breath through his nose into her hair. “ _I know you do, lass_.”

(Y/N) pulled back, staring into his eyes. “And yet, I—”

A knock sounded at the door, startling the two of them and she untangled herself from his arms, quickly wiping her eyes with the rag at her side. She cleared her throat and walked to the door, opening it. “Master Kenway, please, come inside.”

The Grandmaster stepped into the mansion and she shut the door behind him, “Thank you.” He paused for a moment to look her over, stopping at her face.

She nodded and turned to Shay. “Master Cormac, should I prepare tea?”

He almost pulled a face at the usage of his name, but he managed to hide it, simply shaking his head, and tugged on his jacket. “No worries, (Y/N). Master Kenway and I will go to the Morrigan.”

“Dinner, then?”

Shay looked at Haytham and the latter nodded. “Aye, have something prepared, please.”

(Y/N) tipped her head and opened the door. “Of course, sir.”

Haytham was the first out the door with another nod to her and as Shay left, she reached out and grabbed his arm, causing him to look at her. “(Y/N)?”

She tried for a smile but in the end, it was more a grimace. “ _Be safe, Shay_ ,” she whispered so the Grandmaster didn’t hear.

Shay nodded and winked at her, closing the door behind him.


End file.
